


5 Times the Alphas Wanted to Take a Beta

by FreshBrains



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, F/F, F/M, M/M, Pack Dynamics, The Alpha Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some of them want to change.  Some of them want to start over.  Some of them just want to give into their instincts.  But instead, they stick together and try to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Times the Alphas Wanted to Take a Beta

**1\. Ennis**

Ennis killed his family for power. Betas didn't have power, and alphas did, so he did what he had to do. But he never anticipated what he’d end up _doing_ with that power.

“She’s pretty,” he grumbled, eye trained on the blond girl lying supine on the stone floor, her skin like cracked marble. “I didn't get a good look at her in the dark.”

“It doesn't matter what she looks like,” Kali snapped, yanking the flashlight out of Ennis’ hands and shining it on the betas.

“ _Erica_ ,” the tall boy whispered, inching towards her on his hands and knees. He kept his head low, his canines fully extended. “ _Erica, please wake up_.” His voice was low, but Ennis could hear him, loud and clear.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Ennis asked him, careful to keep his tone even. He wasn't mocking them; he’d never mock a werewolf who’d been kept from the full moon for months, even a beta.

“She’s my _everything_ ,” the boy choked out, sitting up slowly to take the girl—Erica—in his arms.

She looked so small, much smaller than when she stood trembling like Persephone in the forest, her hair a tangle of leaves and dirt. She was a fighter, that girl, right up until the moon got to her and Deucalion started getting sick of her constant screaming and snarling.

Kali tugged Ennis on the shoulder, pulling him to the corner of the room. “She won’t last much longer,” Kali said, her voice so low that not even the betas could hear her. 

“If we get her out of here, she’ll heal,” Ennis murmured.

Kali shook her head firmly. “Duke would kill us both, and I’m not dying to save some little girl.” She walked away to tend to the other girl, who was snarling in the dark corner, lowered in a protective crouch near the betas. But as Kali left him, she squeezed his wrist gently, letting her fingertips graze his skin with as much gentleness she could muster.

Ennis watched the two betas, the way the boy held Erica like a broken doll, like something he so desperately wanted to fix but didn't know how. Ennis knew what it was like. He’d grown up in a big New York City brownstone, an old money city family, with kids running in and out of rooms, cubs and pups always underfoot. His baby sister Jackie was weak when she was born; she only lived a year before her blood ran black and she was just _gone_ , cradled in his father’s arms like nothing more than a bundle of rags. 

Ennis married twice, alphas both times; his first wife, Natasha, was tall and strong and died like a warrior in a fight over pack boundaries, and Ennis killed his second wife with his bare hands, squeezing her neck until her breath was gone and his own eyes burned red. She was the greatest alpha he’d ever seen, his Emma—but once she was gone he forbade himself from thinking about her. His three girls and two boys were born alphas, strong like their mothers, and he killed all of them, and he earned his red eyes and red hands and red, red life.

Erica, the marble-skinned girl bleeding on the floor, looked like his baby, his little Tatiana. Her skin was clear and bronze like his, but her hair shone gold like her mother’s. She was the easiest out of them all—Ennis just closed his eyes, set her on his lap, and waited for the snap of her neck. He never once looked at her face, but he held her until dawn. She had just turned six.

Erica let out a moan, weak and pitiful, ending in a wracking cough. Deucalion had done quite a number on her, and it was at the point when she needed to shift or she would die. He knew it, Kali knew it, and the girl’s boyfriend certainly knew it by the way he kissed her and held her and whispered to her.  
Ennis approached them slowly and knelt down on the floor. “How is she?”

The boy looked up, his eyes furious and his face tear-streaked. “How does she _look_? Why can’t you help her?”

Ennis looked at the door, cracking his knuckles anxiously. “It’ll only be a little longer. I’m just following orders, kid.”

“But you’re an _alpha_!” He spit. “You don’t have to follow orders!”

For one fleeting second, Ennis wondered what it would be like if things were different, if he was alone and didn't have Deucalion hovering over his shoulder or Kali glaring at his side or the twins crouching around every corner. He wondered what it would be like to start from scratch—a new alpha with new betas.

 _I could get them out of here_ , he thought. His power manifested itself in a physical strength that couldn't be matched by anyone in the pack if he muscled his way out. _I could take them away. They’re just kids. They’re scared, they’re tired_. 

_I could take them back to the city. The boy might hate me but I could show him how to turn hate into power and strength. I could show him that muscles didn't equal power and power didn't equal happiness. I’d let him know it never feels good to hurt people_. 

_I’d take care of the girls, too. I would give them anything, we could run a house together. I’d give them anything they wanted. I’d teach them to drive and fight and love and protect. I’d teach them that they are their own people, that strength comes in many forms, that the world will sometimes hate them and it is okay to hate the world_.

He wanted to take them away, but then Deucalion’s cane tapped against the ground a hundred yards away and Ennis stood up.

He was strong. He had power. He killed for what he had.

Or maybe he was just a coward.

 

**2\. Kali**

From day one, everyone knew Cora belonged to Kali.

Deucalion didn't like the betas, but he especially hated the girls. They showed a hardness Kali had rarely ever seen in betas, a wiser-than-their-years attitude that she didn't acquire herself until she was an alpha. Cora was a born wolf, and her instincts were honed sharper than Erica’s, and she protected her peers with her own body like a mother wolf with her cubs.

“She’s dead, Cora,” Kali said gently, wrapping her fingers around Cora’s shoulders. The girl was half-shifted over Erica’s lifeless body, bent over on all fours. A half-shifted wolf was an ugly sight—Cora’s canines were begging to be let out, making her whimper in pain, her face was like a melted candle, burning itself out in the confusion between human and animal. Kali’s wolf cooed for Cora, wanting to shelter the girl who was already trying to be mama to her dead friend.

“ _Leave us alone_!” Cora ground out through her teeth. Sweat rolled down her back in waves; her nails scraped against the bare floor as she hunched down closer to Erica. Boyd was gone—Deucalion locked him up separately to drown out his mournful wailing.

“Come on, sweetheart. I’m not the enemy here. Your friend couldn't behave herself.” Kali’s voice was sweet as honey, but her face was fierce. “Now come sit with me and let Ennis take her away.”

Cora began to cry, which sobered Kali enough to let Cora’s shoulder go. She’d never once heard the girl cry. She was the tough one, the little Hale girl. “I hate you…you’re a monster,” Cora sobbed, wrapping herself around Erica’s body.

“She was sick, Cora. She was dying anyways. If she ran out during her shift, she would've faced much worse than me. From Duke, from the moon. She was a dead girl.” Kali kept talking, pacing the floor, wondering when the ache in her gut would go away.

Cora collapsed on the floor, any thought of a full shift sobbed right out of her. “I used to think you were so strong. I used to be on your side.”

A pang of sadness shot hard through Kali, settling back into the ache. Cora was so excited when they caught up to her, like a little kid—her brother, her big strong brother, was going to be in an _alpha_ pack! He was going to be a legend! It didn't matter that Cora would have to die for him…she’d already died once, in that fire, at least most of her died that day. If she got to see Derek as a powerful, strong, _safe_ werewolf, she’d be happy. A little martyr.

But she didn't count on loving Erica and Boyd, and she certainly didn't count on loving Kali.

Kali didn't love her back, but she craved her. Cora’s pure beta blood sang to her, it drew her in—Deucalion said that pull would never go away, but Kali would get used to it. Alphas were supposed to want betas; it was in their instincts. But Kali spent most of her life as a beta and this new feeling, this throb that accompanied a beta in front of her on her knees—damn, it was excellent. 

Cora came to them with guts and brains. She disdained Deucalion, but then again, everyone disdained him, and she didn't trust Ennis or the twins, but she followed Kali around like a puppy dog, asking her questions, looking for tips and tricks, wanting to be touched and held and praised ( _Beta drop_ , Deucalion called it with a sneer, _the bitch is looking to be mounted_.) Kali gave Cora her first kiss, her first fuck—fierce and fast on the floor of some abandoned lot, Cora whimpering in pleasure the entire time. She’d been wet for Kali since the first nod of approval when Cora helped capture Boyd and Erica. Kali smelled it constantly, and Duke told her to put an end to it, or they’d all go insane.

It was nice being admired, looked at with soft eyes. Kali could get used to it.

But Kali knew she lost Cora after Erica crumpled in a heap on the floor. Kali didn't mean to kill her, but she wasn't exactly mourning her, either—she was collateral damage. 

“Cora, sweetheart, stop crying. You’re not a child anymore. You’re old enough to know that when rules are broken, people get hurt.” _Please stop crying, my wolf is howling for you_.

But Cora just dropped her head, refusing to look at Kali. “I thought we’d be together until Derek killed me. I thought you’d care for me.” She sniffled, wiped her nose. “You remind me of my mother.”

Kali didn't know if it was a compliment, an insult, or a perversion, but it did nothing to calm her wolf down. “Cora…”

“Don’t speak to me. Don’t talk to me ever again. I hate you so much,” Cora said, tears shaking her voice again. “And I really wanted you to love me.”

Kali felt a hot flare of pain. Her wolf wanted out, she wanted to shift. It was the feeling she usually got when she smelled Cora’s wetness or watched her pupils expand—but this time it was the just the basic, stark urge to claim. _This is a beta, she was willing, she would die for you…claim her, claim her, claim her…_

Kali even considered it. She was already a monster, why not claim the little girl and present that pretty package to her older brother? Bring her back subdued, head down, stinking like a mate?

“I would never be allowed to love you,” Kali said bluntly, not caring if Cora chose to listen or not. “So don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

Cora stilled, but didn't respond, and the smell of heartbreak hung thick.

After that, they didn't speak, but Cora’s scent still called to Kali like a beacon in the dark.

Deucalion was wrong—it never got easier.

 

**3\. Aiden**

The twins had a weakness for pretty faces. Kali found it cute, Ennis found it annoying, but Deucalion was the one who figured out how to use it to their advantage. Aiden was especially trouble—a heart-shaped face, firm breasts, a long neck, long hair, anything and everything got him going, and nothing was more thrilling than the chase.

He was used to chasing girls—not literally, of course, unless they came across the odd pretty alpha in another pack who wanted to tussle in the sheets before refusing their offer. Werewolf girls like to play, but human girls couldn't do what they did. So he flirted, flashed his smile, touched their soft skin and curly hair, and waited in the grass until they were ready. 

And that was why Lydia Martin surprised him so damn much.

Jesus Christ, _Lydia Martin_. There was no chase with her. She wasn't his prey, his catch, his prize—she owned him in ten seconds flat. He didn't even know how it happened, but it did. It was like she put a collar around his throat and sent him to his knees right in the middle of the library, all while twirling a lock of hair around her finger and casually perusing a textbook on molecular biology.

Lydia was technically his assignment. Deucalion told him to go after whatever Scott McCall loved, and Lydia happened to be one of those things. But Aiden found it practically impossible to really do anything when he was with her. She called the shots, lightning-fast— _kiss here, touch there, faster, slower, now, tomorrow, never, yes, no, no, no_ —and even when she was silent, he never got a word in edgewise. He didn't go after her so much as follow her wherever the hell she wanted to go.

It was the afternoon in the janitor’s closet that sent his alarm bells ringing. She knew he was a werewolf—her ex-boyfriend was, and her friend was, and the older Hale guy did a number on her the year prior, introducing her to the world of werewolves in the worst way possible. Lydia wasn't clueless, no matter how hard her moronic friends tried to keep things away from her. But instead of trembling beneath Aiden, or submitting to him (like his wolf wanted her to), she looked him in the eye, pressed her palms to the side of his face, and made him bare his neck to her.

His wolf yelped at that, actually yelped, but it wasn't pained or angry—it was stunned. Stunned, and more turned on than he’d ever been before. It wasn't a feeling he was used to, and it certainly wasn't a feeling he liked, except that he kind of did.

If Aiden ever had secret dreams about Lydia being his beta, that hard, hot kiss to his neck trampled them to dust. Lydia Martin was a goddamn alpha.

But it turned out Lydia wasn't so keen on the idea of Aiden helping to kill one of her classmates. “You’re an asshole, and you’re pathetic. Leave me alone, and tell your brother to leave Danny alone. I don’t want Jackson to come home to _nobody_.”

Deucalion told him he needed to stick it out with her, honey her up, apologize like mad. And he tried, but to no avail (as if there was ever a chance). 

So he made a decision.

“I’m going to bite Lydia Martin,” he told Ethan one afternoon, in the forest far away from the school and from any werewolf ears. “I’m going to bite her, and then we’ll get her to kill Derek Hale.” He cleared his throat, his face burning when Ethan didn't respond. “Or we’ll get her to kill another alpha, whoever, it doesn't matter.”

Ethan stayed silent, but his heart rate spiked in the cool afternoon air.

Aiden continued. “I know we can’t have betas, but Lydia is already an alpha. We all know it. She’s a genius, for one thing, and she might even be a True Alpha if we gave her the chance. She knows about us, probably more than we give her credit for. She could help us, work with us…” Aiden imagined Lydia in a lab coat, her eyes burning as red as her hair, milk-white hands gloved and coated in wolfsbane and mistletoe as she conjured up weapons and defenses, protecting them. “She’d help us, Ethan.”

But Ethan just shook his head. “You’re a moron. You’re a fucking asshole for even thinking that.”

Aiden opened his mouth to speak, but Ethan interrupted, voice tight and furious. “We came here for a reason. We need Scott McCall, and if we can get Hale, we’ll get him too. But we’re not going to bite people just because we want to collect them. People aren't fucking baseball cards, Aiden.”

“It’s not like that, and you know it. This girl is special, Aiden…”

“Yeah, well, I found someone _special_ too,” Ethan snapped, eyes damp. “But I've learned to stop dreaming like a child.”

Aiden was stunned into silence. “You never said anything.”

Ethan turned away. “Yeah, because it doesn't matter. We get Hale to kill the pack, and then we get McCall. Then we’re out of here, and we forget about it.”

Aiden wanted to yell, to argue, but Ethan turned around and looked at him with red eyes. “She’s immune, you know. She can’t become a werewolf, even if you tried.”

And then Aiden was alone, in the darkening sky.

 _She can’t become a werewolf_. 

All of his dreams, every last one of them, went up in smoke. Lydia with red eyes and canines biting into her first kill. Lydia running through the forest, her wedding dress trailing behind her, feet bare to the dirt. Lydia with babies, all alphas, smiling at him, the perfect companion to help him and save him and love him. He wanted it so bad—human and wolf wanted Lydia Martin.

But Lydia Martin was only human.

 

**4\. Ethan**

Ethan’s biggest secret was that he had no clue how to be an alpha.

“You don’t need to be shy with me,” Danny said softly one night. They were in Danny’s bed at his house, his parents out of town, the lights off, snuggled underneath the comforter. “I can always tell you’re holding back.”

This made Ethan laugh, but it wasn't very funny. “I need to hold back a little. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Danny shook his head, a strange look in his eyes. “You won’t hurt me, Ethan. Why would you hurt me?”

Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to lose my cool, that’s all.”

Danny shoved his face into the pillow. “Believe me, you’re not the only one.” He looked back up and smiled. “Come here.”

Ethan let himself be pulled on top of Danny’s hard body, letting out a soft moan as Danny’s strong hands went to his ass and pulled his hips in. “I can barely control myself around you.”

Ethan’s face warmed and he kissed Danny on the lips, soft and sweet, but his wolf didn't like it. His wolf was restless— _so this is what Kali means when she says the wolf wants what the wolf wants_ —but the thing was, Ethan, Ethan the human, didn't want to do anything differently.

He sat back again, frowning. “I feel weird. This isn't working.”

Danny pulled his hands away like he was touching hot coals. “We can slow down, no problem.”

Ethan wanted to tell him so bad; he wanted to tell Danny everything. Danny wasn't just a nice guy—he was actually the _perfect_ guy. He was patient, funny, smart, ambitious, athletic, and for whatever reason, he actually listened to Ethan. Ethan was used to rolling into a town with Aiden, taking his shirt off a few times, and repulsing/arousing half the town within their first twenty minutes of being there. He so rarely had to work for a relationship. Danny was the kind of guy Ethan would've been drawn to even if Deucalion didn't give him an order. 

But Danny was also curious. He asked about Ethan’s brother, his mom and dad, why he lived with Deucalion (“Uh…he’s my uncle”), why he didn't like Scott McCall. He furrowed his brow in confusion whenever Deucalion yelled at him over the phone or when his bruises and cuts healed up in less than a day. It wasn't that he was nosy—he just cared, which was more than a little foreign to Ethan.

But when they were in bed, Ethan knew Danny had a hard time keeping himself in check, just as much as Ethan did. Ethan was familiar with the raw, burned-sugar, stifling smell of arousal, but it never smelled like Danny before. Danny’s arousal hung thick in the air as they lay in bed and kissed and touched for hours, but it wasn't hot and overpowering like any of the other guys Ethan had been with. It was warm and buttery, oozing out from Danny’s hands and mouth and hips, but there was also a sharpness to it—the scent of someone who was holding out.

Danny confusion suddenly made sense. 

“You’re afraid of hurting _me_ ,” Ethan said, bemused. That was a new one.

Danny rolled his eyes. “God, it’s not like that…its…I just don’t get you sometimes.”

“What’s not to get?”

“I mean, the way you let your brother smack you around. The way you get all weird when your uncle is on the phone. Half the time you walk around school like you own the place, but when Aiden is with you, you’re more like…”

Ethan bristled. “Like what?”

Danny sighed. “Like a kicked puppy.”

Ethan felt a wave of something cold and foul wash over him; it was the opposite of the feeling he got before a shift. He almost wanted to curl in on himself and hide, tuck his tail between his legs. “That’s nice, Danny.”

“Ethan, hey, come on,” Danny said gently, wrapping an arm around Ethan’s waist to stop him from getting off the bed. “I didn't mean it like that. I’m sorry.”

It wasn't Danny’s fault, it never was. Ethan knew he wasn't at the top of the pack, even if he was an alpha like the rest of them. Deucalion was the leader, Kali was his second in command, Ennis was the muscle, and the twins were the bait. But after Aiden’s sudden and heart-wrenching plan to bite Lydia and make her a part of the pack, Ethan knew that Aiden was an alpha in a different way than him. Aiden was ready to make decisions. He wanted to give the bite, own, collect, take, he wanted to do what alphas were supposed to do. He wanted a beautiful alpha woman by his side and the science behind it was perfect, strong enough to mask his true feelings—alpha women can serve and protect the pack, alpha women can give birth to alpha babies, and an alpha like Lydia Martin would be unstoppable, all brains and wit and solutions to their problems. Aiden was still a little boy who wanted to follow his heart, but his instincts were still that of an alpha.

But Ethan never had those instincts. With Danny, he was confused, fogged up in a cloud of dizzying affection and sweetness and semi-constant arousal, not trusting his own body to hold back, not knowing what to do with Danny. His instincts weren't telling him to take the lead or follow, to lie still or come alive like a flame, to bite or nuzzle or scent.

When he was with Danny, it felt like he was new again, pure and untouched, like Danny could sink a bite into his throat and claim Ethan as his own, make Ethan a beta again, take away all the confusion and the decisions he didn't know how to make.

With Danny, he felt so fucking _human_ , and that was scary.

But he just curled into Danny on the bed and wondered what it would be like to start over again.

 

**5\. Deucalion**

Deucalion surrounded himself with the people of Beacon Hills, the children, their parents, all that pink skin and those weak hearts and useless instincts, and he wanted them all.

It was something he was born with, long before he became an alpha, started a new pack, or became a blind man. He remembered nothing of his childhood, had no idea if he was born a werewolf or became one, had no idea where he was born. He only knew that he came into the world with the sharp instincts of an alpha werewolf, and those instincts never failed him.

Kali was his first, the first one in the pack, and it was the feet that drew him in. She didn't fight with her back claws before she became an alpha, but he sensed it—the way she walked, her arches high, her lack of footwear in even the coldest of weather. He told her that as he used every trick in the book to get her on his side, and she laughed in his face.

“That’s disgusting, I've never seen a wolf fight with their feet before,” she said.

But then she became an alpha, and she was unstoppable, and suddenly Deucalion was a whole lot more powerful than he’d ever been before.

He knew Ennis would become stronger; he knew the twins would be able to charm their way into anyone’s bedroom (the practically reeked of the Garden of Eden). It was why he became an alpha in the first place—he had the brains and the good sense, he just needed the rank.

And he soon sniffed out each and every human Scott McCall coveted in his safe little town, and he knew they could all be great alphas if they wanted to be.

The first one was the huntress. Due to their precious Code, she’d never have the chance to be a werewolf, nonetheless an alpha, but she certainly could be. She walked with a purpose; she never entered a room that didn't require her presence, never shot an arrow that didn't need to be released. McCall and Hale didn't appreciate what she had to offer—even he, who had an arrow zoom past his head on her behalf, could smell the strength in her. She was a special one. Her papa was, too—but he was clueless. If they only knew what Deucalion meant to the Argent family…Deucalion would love nothing more than to smell that anger wafting off that skinny little girl, the sulfur and the ozone. She’d tear him apart.

Then there were Lydia Martin and Danny Mahealani, the two wild cards, the ones he wasn't so sure about. But he knew they weren't disposable. Lydia Martin was one of the only humans who scared the shit out of him, mostly because anything unknown was enough to make his hackles rise. That girl was a whole mess of unknown, but she was powerful. She smelled natural, like she sprang right up from the earth, completely untainted by the world. Deucalion had a million guesses about her—was she a witch? A banshee? Could she see the future and all the horrors that could come? Was she a bringer of death or a savior, was she a Valkyrie? One thing he knew she wasn't was a werewolf, and she never would be, and Deucalion didn't like that. 

The boy, Danny, was less of a threat but he was intelligent. Deucalion knew he was the kind of person who’d be able to piece together what the alphas really were without any help from the outside, and that would be dangerous, especially since Ethan had gone all soft-eyed for him. He couldn't trust the twins with either of them anymore.

But the one he kept an eye on the most was the sheriff’s son, the boy who ran with the wolves. Deucalion sniffed him out first, along with McCall’s mother, because they were obviously the most important to McCall. But Stiles was a strange one, because he was fearless. He had the heart of a rabbit, of course, any human who’d seen his eyes backed away in surprise, but it wasn't the thrumming beat of fear. It was curiosity more than anything, and wasn't _that delectable_. Hale had quite the eye for him, every wolf in the room could sniff that out, and that’s why Deucalion was so interested. What about this boy, who stood around making sarcastic remarks and intelligent quips, who smelled like Ivory soap and cheap drug store cologne and pine needles and lake water, was so damn special? It made Deucalion want him even more. A coveted wolf was a valuable wolf, and the same applied to humans—the more Hale wanted him, the more his friends loved him, the more Deucalion wanted to throw him down and rut against his soft body, clamp a bite into the junction of his neck and shoulder, make him squirm.

Humans were queer little things. They all smelled different, moved differently, reacted to fear in different ways. Deucalion wanted them all, wanted to catalog their emotions, touch their skin, absorb them into his body. He didn't want them to be alphas, he wanted them to be _his_. He spent so much time telling Kali to let go of Cora, Aiden to let go of Lydia, Ethan to let go of Danny, but he never bothered telling himself to let go of all those humans he collected over the years. It was the kindling of the curiosity he loved—the Argent girl’s strength, Lydia’s power, Stiles’ intelligence—but the payoff never came. He either killed them or left them, because that’s what alphas did.

Alphas were predators, and humans were their prey.

Humans were queer little things, and Deucalion hated them for being so different from him.

**Author's Note:**

> I took liberties with the background stories of the alpha pack, obviously, since we know so little about them. There is a little bit of blink-and-you-miss-it Sterek as well.
> 
> As of the 7/22/13 Episode: Ennis' backstory is obviously way off now, but what do you do?


End file.
